In Limbo
by ALetteredWoman
Summary: Sam's confrontation with Lucifer, Dean and Cas's attempt to save Sam, and an ugly alliance based on need. S11E09 spoilers, then veers off wildly. Angst/faith/fear/mention of rape/implied rape/friendship/love/sacrifice.
1. Sam In Limbo

Sam watched Rowena paint the warding sigils with suspicion. Yeah, she was "a professional", but she was also seriously power mad. And that suppressed smirk and dip of her head when they told her it was Lucifer in the Cage...oh, _that_ wasn't suspicious, oh, no. But, dammit, she was the only game in town.

He followed her with his eyes as she completed the sigils and returned to the elevated table where all her spell-casting ingredients were laid out, ready. Why hadn't Dean answered his call? He clenched his jaw momentarily as the thought that Amara might have...done something to him slipped through his mind. The whatever-it-was - Bond? Link? Hold? - that the embodiment of The Darkness had with Dean was worrisome. Especially since Dean was so silent about it. Like he didn't know what it was. Or he didn't even realize that it existed. But Cas had questioned him about letting Amara slip through his fingers, and _Crowley_ had asked the same thing, and all Dean had to say about it was some hand-waving at the "sister of God", he hadn't said anything about the details of what happened.

He frowned and returned his attention to Rowena. She chanted something in an unknown language, raised her hands, and the sigils began glowing, one by one. Then she threw some herbs into the silver spell bowl, raised her arms again, chanted some more. A fiery line erupted around the temporary square prison, and grew upwards. Lightning began to strike and thunder to crash. Crowley looked around nervously, and muttered, "It begins."

He couldn't take it. He turned away, flexing his hands into fists, drawing a shuddering breath, dipping his head, closing his eyes. His long hair swayed forward over his forehead.

Lucifer.

They were actually calling _Lucifer_ to manifest in this flimsy cage.

Rowena had been vague as to whether he would actually be there, or whether it would just be a soul manifestation, a projection linked to the real Lucifer, still safely locked up in the real Cage. Meddling with The Cage was madness. Sheer _madness_. But there seemed to be no other answer. And given that the visions had appeared whenever he prayed to God for help with The Darkness...well. Who was _he_ to argue with the will of God? However much it terrified him, if this was the path God said to take...

He could tell, by the reflection of the reddish light, that the flames were dying down. And he heard something. Footsteps. In the temporary cage. Then Crowley, talking. And a return voice.

Oh, God.

He knew that voice. Nick's voice.

He shivered.

He listened to the conversation, and then the question came: "What do you want of me?"

He opened his eyes, looked out across the dark expanse of Limbo. That was his cue. Time to do it. He drew another deep breath, turned back, stepped forward. Looked.

And there he was. No scabs and pustules - Nick's form, like it had been early on, before Lucifer's power ate through his body.

"Sam Winchester." The voice was low and amused. "My old roomie." Sam's skin twitched, hair rising on his arms. "Hug it out?" Lucifer smirked.

Sam closed his eyes again, clenched his fists. He could do this. He had the will of God behind him, his faith to steady him. He had been given the visions for a reason. God wouldn't ask more of him than he could give, he was certain of it.

Lucifer spoke again, lightly. "I gotta say, I'm a little in the dark about this meeting." He chuckled. "Am I up for parole? Time off for...bad behavior?" He flashed a lopsided smile. "I don't really get visitors."

Sam braced himself, answered. "If it weren't for the crisis topside, you wouldn't be getting one now." There. Not so bad, right? His voice didn't shake _too_ much.

"Crisis?" It was as if Lucifer's ears perked up.

"You're...aware of The Darkness...?" Stupid question, of _course_ he knew about The Darkness, that's why they were here!

Lucifer hissed in a breath. Okay, that wasn't good. Luci, worried enough to show it?

"Yikes. That doesn't sound good!" Lucifer slid a glance at him.

"Uh..."

"I'm aware of what she _was_ , but that was eons ago," Lucifer added conversationally, with another sly smile.

Sam drew in another deep breath, braced himself. "She's been released, so now she's somewhere - everywhere - on earth."

Lucifer was close now, up against the bars of the temporary cell, eyes stabbing into him. He absent-mindedly nibbled on a fingernail, spat it out to the side, his eyes never leaving Sam. He let the silence drag a bit, then asked slyly, "However did _that_ happen?"

Sam closed his eyes, opened them again, let it slide. Lucifer obviously had some very good ideas on how it happened.

"Point is, she poses a threat to everything that exists. Including you." There. An appeal to his self-interest.

"Hmmm," Lucifer replied thoughtfully, angling his eyes upward, leaning back. "Well! That leads me to my next question: Where's the Big Burrito himself? Where's God in all this?" Contempt, dismissiveness. Sam wanted to smash him in the face, over and over again. But he couldn't, even if he tried - Lucifer was still an archangel, strong with Grace, no matter how corrupt. And, besides...Sam had been down that road before. It led nowhere but to infinite pain.

"All current indications of His presence are that...there are no indications of His presence," he answered slowly.

And, of course, no surprise from Lucifer. No real surprise. Just mockery. "What?! Caught the bus outta town? Figures. Hmm." Sam clenched his jaw, gritted his teeth. He wanted to shout, "Show some _respect_ , dammit!" But that was Lucifer's reason for being here, after all.

He swallowed and added, "But..." Lucifer flicked up an amused eyebrow, waiting. "Recently he has...reached out...to an interested party."

"Who?" Lucifer's eyes were bright with interest, teasing.

Here we go. "Me," Sam answered shortly.

"You?!" The surprise was exaggerated. The implication - one implication: why on earth would God reach out to one Sam Winchester? Surely there were better people to reach out to? Oh, Lucifer knew how to dig into people's hearts, find their weak spots. Sam struggled with that question, himself. Who was _he_ to get God's attention? Why would God send _him_ visions? Wasn't he the one who started all this trouble in the first place? But...

"He answered my prayers." Sam reassured himself, as well as passing on the information. He had prayed; he had gotten visions, visions that led him here, to face Lucifer. God had _answered his prayers_. It was reassuring; he was not being punished for the actions that led to The Darkness being set free. He was being guided.

"Did he now...?" Surprise, amusement, superiority, disbelief. Again, digging into his psyche. "And what was Dad's suggestion?" Eager interest. Damn. How could someone layer a simple question with so many different things: My Dad. Talking to you. Really. You tiny little naked ape.

"To seek you out," Sam answered hoarsely.

Lucifer chuckled. "Get outta town! _Seriously_?!" He laughed fully. "Who'd've thunk it?!"

Sam was silent. Lucifer's laughter died down, and he leaned forward confidentially. "I completely get why you came to me. Can't ignore God, right? God says 'Jump!', everyone says, 'How high?'" he said lightly.

Sam asked hoarsely, "So does this mean you're on board?" Dear God. Working with Lucifer. They had to be insane.

"Wellll," Lucifer drawled slowly, slyly. "I _did_ help Dad seal up The Darkness all those years ago. She's quite a force," he added with a small grimace. "Determined to take over everything, even back then. Prone to tantrums. I can see why Dad is lying low." He slid a glance to see how Sam took the implication of cowardice on God's part. Sam said nothing. "Now that sis is here, God's not the only circus in town."

Sam seized the opportunity for a real answer. "Is she equal to him in power?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Raw power? Sure." Sam closed his eyes momentarily. He had been hoping Amara was lying, puffing herself up. But fighting someone - something - that was God's equal? Dear God, how on earth could they do that?! Lucifer went on, "But she's got none of the...experience. God's a master strategist. That's why you're here." He pointed a finger at Sam. Sam blinked.

"And why is that?"

"Well, 'cause God needs my help to put the cat back in the bag." Sam had a quick mental image of two men grasping a writhing, squirming cloud of darkness, forcing it into a burlap sack, twisting the top and tying it shut. Hah! But Lucifer was chuckling now, saying, "Can't do it by himself. Seen _that_ movie." So, what? God had tried it by himself before the archangels? And couldn't?

"And...?" Sam prompted.

"Anndddd..." Lucifer said slowly, quietly, a gleam in his eyes. "I need a ride out of here. I mean, I look swell in here and everything, but I'd be so much smoke, topside." His eyes locked onto Sam's.

He swallowed. "You want a vessel."

"One who's...strong enough to hold me, handy, and available now." Lucifer smiled, winked. "Catch my drift?"

There it was.

Out in the open.

One of the things he was most afraid of.

A muscle jumped in Sam's jaw. "Do you really expect me to agree with this?!"

Lucifer paced a bit beside the wall of the temporary cage, dragging a hand languidly along the bars. "I know, I know, it's a lot to ask." His voice oozed false sympathy. "But desperate times require desperate measures." He offered up the old chestnut with arched eyebrows, inviting Sam to see it his way.

Well, fuck _that_ noise. As _if._

"That's not desperate, that's _certifiable_!" Sam protested. His chest was rising and falling rapidly with his breaths. He felt trapped. Surely this wasn't what God wanted from him. _Surely._ But there was Lucifer, watching him with those sly eyes. He felt like they were pinning him down to a board, like a butterfly spread out to be studied, poked, prodded - he drew in a gasp, shuddering, _remembering_...

"Okay, hold on there a second, cowboy! Take a breath," Lucifer added with false concern. "You've been working with _Crowley_. You passed 'certifiable' three off-ramps ago." Ugh. Yes, he _was_ working with Crowley. He hated it, despised that slimy, manipulative demon. But, oh so much better than Lucifer. By far.

Lucifer looked at him earnestly. "And, look, I'm no fan of the Ruler of the Universe - " _No shit_ , Sam thought. " - but here I am, ready to pitch in!" He spread his arms wide. Then he leaned forward again, close to the bars, and said intensely, "Sam, why do you think God sent you to me? To get my _help_ \- which I only now just offered! Sam, your visions were the Word of God, you can't say no to that!"

That was the hook. The main point. What he had been saying to himself every step of the way to this point. _God_ had sent him those visions. God had shown him The Cage, Lucifer, everything. God _needed_ Lucifer's help. Lucifer _needed_ a vessel. And he, Sam Winchester, was especially bred to be that vessel. Thousands of years of pushing people together, breeding them - ugh, so vile, so against the very concept of "free will" - to bring him to this point. Again.

Sam backed up, swiveled away, started pacing. He bit his lips, ran his hands through his hair, scrubbed his fists up and down his face. _Surely_ God couldn't ask this of him. Too much. It was too much to ask. He'd given his all once before, to save the world. He'd spent four fucking centuries in The Cage with Lucifer tormenting him. And now God wanted still _more_?

He found himself in front of Lucifer again, with only the fragile bars of the temporary cell separating them. Lucifer eyed him eagerly.

"So have you thought about it, Sam?" he said, low and urgent. Sam was tempted to respond sarcastically - _no,_ I haven't been thinking about it, I was just out for a stroll! But he kept his mouth stubbornly shut. "Do I have an invitation to look forward to?" Lucifer added in a caressing voice.

He shuddered, skin crawling. To be Lucifer's vessel again?

He squared his shoulders, and answered both Lucifer and his own thoughts at one go: "No," he said firmly. "I won't do it. There has to be another way."

The world seemed to stand still at his refusal. Lucifer just looked at him with a tiny smile. Not surprised. Not angry. Just that tiny smile. And then the sigils at the bottom of the cell started fading. He heard Crowley's voice rise, Rowena answering him. He started to take a step back, watched the warding flames between him and Lucifer sink down, die away, fear rising within him.

What the _hell_?!

The flames vanished, sinking into the surface of Limbo as if they had never been there. And as Sam watched with horrified eyes, Lucifer smiled widely, made a small gesture...

And he was _inside_ the cell. With Lucifer. No bars separating them. No warding sigils keeping him safe. No warding flames ensuring that Lucifer couldn't touch him. Just him and Lucifer, together in a ten foot by ten foot cell. Again. Locked in. And no way out.

 _Focus. Control. Don't let the panic take over. You are in the most danger you've been in in a long, long time. Remember, God gave you this vision. Right here, in a cell with Lucifer. You've seen this. It's part of His plan. Breathe. Again. Focus._

Lucifer walked toward him, a triumphant grin on his face. "Together again. Hey, Sam Winchester, didja miss me?" he snickered. "I bet you did." Sam's skin shivered like a terrified horse, but he drew in a deep, calming breath, exhaled slowly, clenched his jaw, held his ground.

God _wants_ this, he reminded himself.

As if he heard the thought, Lucifer arched his eyebrows at him. "I have to say, you're extraordinarily calm, given the circumstances."

Sam breathed in, breathed out again. "It's pretty much exactly how God told me it was gonna be. Guess I just have to..." He paused, drew in another ragged breath. "...go with it and play my hand."

Lucifer smiled wider, clicked his tongue. "Tch, tch, tch. That would make so much sense if it was _God_ doing the talking."

Wait. What?

Lucifer went on, pacing the edge of the cell, dragging a hand from bar to bar, talking. Sam stayed frozen in place. "You see, Sam, when The Darkness descended, its effect on Hell was _massive._ The Cage was damaged." Sam flinched. He could dimly sense what was coming. "Through the fissures, I was able to reach out." He stopped, turned back to face Sam, eyes gleaming. "It wasn't God inside your head, Sam. It was me."

Sam's world crumbled.

The comfort he had been leaning on...

The sure, quiet knowledge that this was God's own plan...

His faith, his solid, strong foundation...

Gone. With one sentence. Ripped from him.

"So, y'see, Sam, He's not with you. He's _never_ been with you. It's always been...just _me_." Digging into the wound. Tearing into it. Tormenting him. Like before. He closed his eyes, opened them again, stared frozenly at Lucifer. A single tear spilled out, dropped onto his cheek, rolled down.

Lucifer chuckled again, smugly. "Soooo, I guess...I guess I _am_ your only hope."

Sam drew in a shuddering breath, gritted out, "It's never gonna happen." But it was bravado, just bravado. He knew what Lucifer was capable of. The thought of enduring yet more, when he had thought he was all done with that torment...already, he was flinching inwardly. The knowledge of what Lucifer could do to him, had done to him...it was already undermining him. Before, when he jumped into The Cage, dragging Michael with - well, he had had no real idea. It took courage, yes. But now he didn't have "an idea". He had sure, certain knowledge.

He was terrified.

"Ah, well. Settle in there, buddy." Lucifer took a jaunt around the cell, whistling tunelessly. Then he stopped, gestured up high in the air. "Hey, roomie...upper bunk?" Then he gestured lower. "Lower bunk?" Then he turned to look directly into Sam's eyes, with a vicious smile. "Or do you wanna share?"

Sam shivered, remembering. Skin being flayed off, then slowly growing back. Limbs set on fire. Rape, over and over and over again. Bones broken, then twisted with glee. Thoughts invading his head, toying with his memories, twisting them, turning them into hellish caricatures. Lucifer shaping himself into Dean, into Dad, Mom, Bobby, Rufus, to enjoy the extra torment it provided Sam to be beaten, forced, flayed, burnt by people who loved him.

He closed his eyes, locked his jaw against the scream that was trying to force its way out of him.

 _Oh, God, Dean. Help me. Please, please help me!_

A hand against his cheek. "Sam? _Sammy_!" He opened his eyes. Dean. He gasped, reached out, gripped Dean's hard, muscular arm, gasped out, "Dean?!" Dean smiled, reassuringly, gave his cheek a quick pat. Then the smile shifted into something ugly, the gentle hand on his chin bit in, as Dean pulled his head forward with a vicious yank, slamming his lips down, forcing his mouth open. He morphed before Sam's eyes into the form of Nick, grinning at him. "Hey, c'mon, bunk buddy! Time for some fun!"


	2. The Deal

"There's been a bit of a...hiccup."

Dean clenched his jaw at that. If Crowley said there was a hiccup...

"Okay. Explain," he snapped.

"Ahem. Well. Your brother is in Hell -" _What the actual fuck_?! " - with Lucifer." Dean felt it like a punch in his gut. He clenched his fist around the phone, closed his eyes. _If this smarmy douche's betrayed us - !_

"Maybe I didn't hear that right...?" His voice was flat, even. Dangerous.

"Now, Squirrel, don't get your panties in a wad. They're not in The Cage, per se, it's a temporary cell I have for high-security prisoners, put it in Limbo where they can't raise - heh! - Hell with fellow sufferers. Um. Anyway. After your brother chit-chatted with him for a few from _outside_ the cell...um...suddenly the warding was trashed and Moose was _inside_ the cell. With Lucifer. Where I assume he still is; Mother and I departed _tout suite_ after the warding faded."

Dean said nothing out loud. _Trust those two to save their own precious damned hides_! But his skin prickled with fear for Sam. How the hell did all this go south so fast? A day ago, they were still just looking for a spell to talk with Lucifer. Now...

"Squirrel? You still there?"

"Tell me _why_ , when I _specifically_ said to wait for me, do nothing, you idiots went ahead and marched your stupid damned asses into Hell without a god-damned word to me?!" His voice was rising dangerously.

"Yes. Well. I do wonder the same thing myself," Crowley mused. "Sam did try to call you - and just where were _you_ , Mr. High And Mighty? - but...for some reason...we felt a sense of urgency." He paused. "Whatever. Done is done. We now have a small dilemma to solve: to wit, one custom-made vessel for Lucifer sitting in a cell right next to him. Even if Sam says no to begin with..." His voice trailed off.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, leaned his head against the wall. _Sam. You fucking idiot. Dammit dammit dammit, how the hell do we get you out of there?!_ He was frantic, itching to do something - anything! - to get Sam out. Now.

He drew in a deep breath.

"You'd damned well better have some sort of plan tucked up your tailored sleeve, you dick. You got him in there, now get him _out_!"

Crowley sniffed audibly. "Tch. Rude. As it happens, I do, at least the beginnings of one. My darling mother claims to be able to send more people in. Not, alas, get people out, that seems to be beyond her skill set," he snarked. "Anyway, my thought is to send someone, or ones, in, dicker with the Devil, see if we can't make some sort of deal. We do _not_ want Lucifer out and about topside in Sam's meat suit."

Dean turned the plan over in his head. It wasn't really a "plan", it was more of a Hail Mary pass. But at least it was a start.

When he pocketed the phone, he turned to Cas, looked into his worried eyes. "Looks like I'm going to Hell." He snorted. "Been there, done that." _Don't remember, don't remember, don't remember..._

He could tell that Cas knew what he was thinking. His friend reached out, laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to do this, Dean. Let me go instead."

He looked away. "My brother. My family, Cas. I'm going." He knew his determination came through, loud and clear.

Cas's hand squeezed his shoulder. "Then you're not going alone."

Dean didn't say a word, just nodded, sharply, once. But the knowledge that he wouldn't be alone in this, that Cas had his back, always...it centered him. Maybe...just maybe...they'd be able to get Sam out, safe.

* * *

Dean kept a suspicious eye on Rowena - she seemed far too willing to go along with this half-assed plan. Of course, hell, she was probably excited to put them in there for Lucifer to have a go at, and didn't expect them to ever come out. Three birds with one stone: Sam, Cas, and him, all in the temporary cage with Lucifer.

He wasn't sure himself if they would ever come out. He pushed down his fear. _Got no time for that._

She smiled coyly at him as if she could read his thoughts. "And are we all ready to go?" she asked in her lilting Scottish accent.

Cas's gravelly voice echoed his as he said, "Yes."

 _Bad word, that, right here, right now_ , he thought unhappily. Reminded him far too much of the whole angel-getting-a-vessel's-permission thing, which, considering where they were, what they were facing, made his skin crawl.

"Well, then! Let's to it, shall we?" she said lightly. She dropped some herbs in her spell bowl, lit a match and tossed it in. Crowley, Dean, and Cas all watched closely, Crowley obviously barely resisting the urge to yank at the chain that ended at the collar around her neck. She started chanting, lifted her arms, and...

He and Cas were in the temporary cell. Lucifer was there, but his attention was captured by the sight of Sam. He was sitting crumpled on the floor, his eyes dull, face lined with pain and fear. That look sent a chill of worry through him; he took an automatic, unthinking step forward. "Sam!"

"Ah ah ah! Not so fast!" Lucifer was blocking his path, smiling a crooked smile and shaking a finger at him. He snarled, needing to get to Sam, but stopped, backed up, eyeing him cautiously.

 _Me and Cas. Facing the Devil himself. Again. Shit. Well, at least this time I know I have backup. Thought I was on my own last time._

"Dean Winchester...Hey, y'here to visit your little bro? Sammy! Hey! Wake up, bunk buddy! We have visitors!" The voice was light and mocking. Sam looked up, saw them, and his face filled with a wild confusion of hope, relief, fear for them...and, finally, doubt. He closed his eyes, turned his head away, resigned.

"Trying to fool me again. Yeah. Right." His voice was low and hoarse.

Lucifer turned to him. "No, really, Sam! Say 'Hi!' to Dean...and my odd little bro Castiel." He slid a considering look at Castiel. "Not a mind game this time. Scout's honor!" He crossed his heart, tried to look sincere.

Sam's dazed eyes flared with desperate hope, and he murmured, disbelieving, "Dean...?"

Dean couldn't hold back in the face of that broken plea. He brushed past Lucifer, slid down to his knees beside Sam, slipped his arm around his shoulders. "Sam. Sammy. It's me. Really me. Right here. I got ya." He stopped, throat choked with emotion. "Dude. You okay?" _Shit. Stupid, stupid question to ask. He's in Hell. He's in a cage with Lucifer again. Luci's had a day to fuck with his head. He's not okay._

Sam put his hand on top of his, gripped it hard, but didn't say anything. Then his eyes met Dean's, and he whispered hoarsely, "I didn't say yes."

Dean shut his eyes. "You didn't have to tell me, man. I knew. I _knew_. And I knew you _wouldn't_."

Lucifer snorted softly. "It's a touching family reunion! Yeah, ol' Sam's been a bit of a stick in the mud - "

It was too much. Dean was on his feet, snarling, filled with rage, running at him, wanting to rip his head off, even though he knew it was futile. Lucifer, without looking, shot out a hand, wrapped it around his neck, and lifted him off the floor. He looked down at his fingernails, smirked, said, "Yeah, okay, that was harsh. Sorry, man!" He looked back up at Dean with a cold smile. "You ready to play nice?" Dean ground his teeth, but nodded, once, short and sharp. Lucifer smiled widely. "Good boy!" He let go, and Dean staggered as he fell to the floor of the cell. He moved to stand with Cas, rubbing his neck.

Lucifer sauntered around the cage, humming. Then he stopped, turned to face them, pointed a finger at them. "So, boys, what're you doing here, exactly? Can't hurt me, y'know. Been there, done that, right, Deano? So...what's up?" He leaned against the bars of the cell, crossed his legs, stuffed his hands in his pockets. His bright eyes darted between Dean and Cas, and a smug smile twitched at his lips.

Dean was about to speak, but Cas did it first. "We're here to make a deal for Sam." Dean winced. _Oh, of course he knows that, but, still...bad opening for negotiations_!

"Oh..." he crooned. "I dunno, Cassie, brother. I _like_ having Sam here, reminds me of old times! And I've been damned lonely, y'know. Michael's not much fun anymore. Doesn't talk much, just huddles in the corner." He grimaced. "Boring!" He pulled away from the bars and sauntered back to them, ignoring Dean and focusing on Cas. "Besides...what've you got for me? A deal implies...y'know, negotiation, all that shit. I've got something you want, info about Auntie. What've you got for me? I mean, that I don't already have." He slid his eyes to Sam, wagged his eyebrows, focused back on Cas.

 _And there we have it. We've got fuck-all. Nothing, nada, zilch. We've got nothing he wants. Why'd we come here?!_

Of course, he knew why they'd come. They'd come hoping some how, some way, they would find a way, a loophole, something. But Lucifer had put his finger on it: to trade, make a deal, they had to have something to offer, and they didn't.

"Aw, c'mon, Cas. Give me something I can work with here!" The voice was wheedling, the smile knowing. Dean snapped to attention. Something was going on. Lucifer knew something. Something he wanted more than Sam - ?! _What the hell?!_ Dean turned his head, looked at Cas.

"Cas - dude, what's he talking about?"

Cas didn't respond. His eyes were locked with Lucifer's. His lips twitched downward for a moment, then he turned to look back at Dean. "Let me handle this." His voice was quiet, firm.

Dean was filled with a rising sense of dread. Cas had something in mind, and he was sure he wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.

Lucifer grinned at him. "Aw, Cas...you didn't let your special hairless ape here know?" He shook his head and pursed his lips in mock disapproval. "And here I thought you were besties! Damn! Keeping secrets just isn't a good thing for solid friendships, y'know." He smirked.

" _What_?!" The dread was growing. "What haven't you told me, Cas?! C'mon, man, spit it out! What's going on?!" Cas waited a moment or two, still focused intently on Lucifer. Then he looked back at Dean, reached out a warm, strong hand, and clasped it around Dean's forearm.

"I never felt the need to tell you. It wasn't relevant that you know. Until now." His voice was low.

" _Know_?! Know _what_ , dammit!"

Lucifer rolled his eyes, heaved a dramatic sigh. "Jeez. Okay, if _you_ won't tell him, _I_ will. Y'see, Deano, Castiel here's kinda...special now. Remember when I blew him to bits?" Dean shuddered. How could he forget? "And Dad brought him back? I don't know why he did that, by the way," he confided. "Cas was a strange creature, but not all _that_ interesting." He started strolling around the cell again, dragging his hand from bar to bar. "Now, before all that hoo-hah, Cas had a human vessel. But afterwards?" He stopped, pivoted, pointed a finger at Dean. "Oh, now, _afterwards_...Castiel had a brand spanking new shiny custom-made rig. All the tilts and whirls. A deluxe job! Created from nothing just special for him, _perfect_ for holding an angel." He waved his hands extravagantly.

Dean flashed a frantic glance at Cas. "Cas...what...what..." He could tell where this was going now. He had been right: he didn't like it. At all.

Lucifer continued, "Didn't take very good care of it, y'know, crashed and dented it a few times, but Daddy brought him back, fixed it up again, each time. And here he is." He swung around to lock eyes with Cas again, and murmured with a sly smile, "Looking to make a deal..."

"Cas - _no_! Don't do this, buddy! We'll find a way, another way - !" _There has to be another way!_

But Cas was already shaking his head, smiling sadly at him. "Dean. He's not going to let Sam go, or you go, until he's got something. _This_ is our something."

" _Dammit_ , Cas - !"

Cas turned back to Lucifer. "In return, you swear an oath that you will let Dean and Sam leave this place. That you'll help in the fight against The Darkness, with everything you have, no matter what it takes. That you will not harm them, or anyone they love, physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. That this time, you will not try to destroy humanity." His voice was steady. He might as well have been talking about the weather.

" _Cas_!"

Lucifer pouted. "Sheesh. So demanding! Can't I even hurt them a teeny, tiny bit?" he whined.

Cas showed a flare of anger, and his eyes began to glow. "Swear it, or there is no deal."

" _Deal_?! You're damned right there's no deal - !" But they ignored him. Lucifer smiled, a tiny, smug smile. Cas stood straight, tall, firm.

"Well! Okay, then! We have a deal, brother." Lucifer grinned. "I swear, by Dad's creation, that I will let Sam and Dean leave; that I will help in the fight against The Darkness; that I won't harm them or their loved ones physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually; and that I won't try to destroy humanity, yadda, yadda, yadda... You shoulda been a lawyer, bro!"

Cas's body relaxed, and his angel glow faded.

"Very well." Cas shook Dean's arm, which he had been holding all the while. "Dean. Go sit with Sam, and shield both your eyes."

Dean whirled on him, grabbed him by the lapels of his trenchcoat, shook him hard. "Cas. Dude. I am asking this with all my heart: don't do this." His voice was shaking. Cas covered his hands with his own, then pulled them off. He pushed Dean toward Sam.

"Go."

"And a touching farewell! Damn, it's like a soap opera!" Lucifer clutched at his chest. "My heart! Oh! I think I might cry..."

"Shove it, asshole!" Dean snarled. Cas's hand was on his back, pushing again.

"Go. Don't make this any harder than it already is."

Dean turned again, and grated out, "We'll get you back. Somehow. Some way. I _swear_!" Then he stumbled down beside Sam, wrapped an arm around him, and hunkered down. Cas watched him, nodded once, and looked at Lucifer.

"Yes," was all he said.

And the cell was flooded with blinding actinic white light, growing and sparking, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut, covered Sam's eyes with his hands, ducked his head down. The light flared again, enough so he could see it through his eyelids, then slowly faded. He squinted, looked around.

No more Lucifer in Nick's form.

Cas was standing...differently. He couldn't describe it, but he knew, beyond doubt, that what inhabited what looked like Jimmy Novak's body, it wasn't Cas.

Cas was gone.

It was like a fist clenched around his heart. He set his teeth, ignored the feeling, shook Sam. "Sam. Hey. We're getting you out of here." Tears were streaming down Sam's face, but he nodded. _Good. That means he's with it enough to know what happened. Not gonna curl up in a ball_. "Good man." He cuffed him with rough affection, then looked back at - not Cas - Lucifer.

He was rolling his head slowly, stretching his arms out, flexing his hands, like someone trying on a new jacket. He seemed to feel Dean's gaze, and looked over at him. The vivid blue eyes were dancing, and a lopsided grin flashed at him.

"Oh, this is _niiiice,"_ Cas's voice crooned. A shudder ran down Dean's back. "Even better than Sammy boy! _Damn_!" Lucifer clapped his hands together, dusted them off. "Well, now. Time to get you two out of here, and go walkabout for a bit. Not long! Just wanna get my sea legs, settle in, y'know." He grinned again, lifted a hand, snapped his fingers...

And Dean and Sam were in a meadow outside the bunker, no sign of Lucifer, or the temporary cage, or Limbo. He dug his teeth deep into his lips, drew a ragged breath. _Cas! God, it hurts._ He looked at Sam, got up, held a hand out. Sam struggled to his feet.

"Cas," he mumbled. "Cas! What're we gonna do, Dean? We can't just leave him like that!" He paused, then added, in a slow voice, "That is...if he's still there..." He bit his lip, frowned, dashed a hand across his face to wipe tears away.

Dean stared out at the landscape, jaw working. "Oh, he's there. And we're gonna gank that sonovabitch, get him back. Believe me."


	3. Making A Point

**A/N: Trigger warning - sexual assault and serious mind fuckery**

Lucifer-as-Cas made him edgy. It was bad enough that they were _working_ with him, of their own free will. But it was also the soul-deep realization that, buried somewhere inside Jimmy Novak's body, Cas was still there. Trapped. Seeing things, hearing things, unable to _do_ anything.

Dean ground his teeth, swearing to himself, yet again, that he'd find a way to get Lucifer, send him back to The Cage, kill him, do something, anything, to be sure that Cas would survive this. First, The Darkness. Then Lucifer.

Of course, he'd been telling himself that since Cas offered himself up, like a fucking lamb to the sacrifice.

 _Cas, you idiot_!

As if he could read his thoughts - hell, maybe he _could_! - Lucifer smiled slyly at him. Damn. It just made his skin creep. Everything about him was wrong: the way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he talked. It all screamed _not-Cas!_ at him.

It was bad enough that Sam had retreated, with a hint of panic, from having anything to do with him.

"Aw. Having problems coping with me instead of your boyfriend, Dean?" Lucifer's eyes danced, and his voice was teasing. "C'mon! I'm not _that_ bad! Look, I'm working with you, helping you! I want The Darkness gone as much as you do." He paused, and his eyes unfocused, his voice turned serious for a moment. "More. I _know_ what she can do. She'll unmake all of us, ruin daddy-oh's creation, plunge us - and, more importantly, _me_ \- into nothingness. So. Trust me on this, for now." He flashed a grin, returning to his more normal lightness. "'Course, that doesn't mean I can't have some fun in the meantime..."

Dean bared his teeth in a false smile.

"Yeah, well. If it weren't for the fact that we _need_ you, I'd've tried ganking you long since. Just so we're clear, you're Public Enemy Number Two on my list. Don't you forget it. And if you've hurt Cas in _any_ way - !" He left the threat unsaid. Mainly because, well, what the hell could he threaten the Prince of Darkness with, anyway?

Lucifer just murmured a thoughtful "Hmmm," then started sauntering around the common room of the bunker, idly picking up Men of Letters' weapons that they had left up as decor, eyeing them, turning them over curiously, then replacing them. Dean followed him with his eyes, then shuddered, closing them. The contrast with Cas's gait, his personality, was too much. He clenched his jaw again, drew in a deep breath, leaned forward, fists planted on the table.

Hands fell on his shoulders. He flinched and his eyes popped open again. _Too close, too close!_

Lucifer's head was next to his, so close he could faintly feel the movement of air from his breathing. Dean was trapped against the table, chairs on either side, Lucifer behind him. He fought a feeling of panic.

"Hey, Dean," Lucifer said softly. "Wanna know what's going on in little brother's head right now?" The hands slid slowly, gently down his back. "What he's thinking? What he's...feeling?" The hands stopped on his hips, thumbs tracing soft, slow circles. Dean was frozen in place, his panic growing. Much to his dismay, the feeling of Cas's hands on his body, the scent of him, were digging into him, pulling up thoughts he had always carefully pushed down. _Stop, man. Think. Lucifer likes toying with people. Hurting them. Don't let him -_

"Get away from me, asshole," he mumbled.

"Ohhhh, he hates this," Cas's voice crooned into his ear. "Hates me being in control, being locked away. Having me... _do_ things -" The hands on his hips hardened, jerked him back against Cas's body. Dean swallowed hard, skin quivering, breathing ragged. He jerked his head away from that soft voice. " - to people he loves, while he's trapped and can't stop it." One of the hands smoothed its way to the front of his body. "Things _he'd_ like to do, but never has let himself, for...reasons..."

 _Not Cas, not Cas, not Cas!_

Dean snapped, twisted, started pushing at one of the chairs to get loose, away, free from this - _thing_ \- behind him. But the hands dug into him, angelic strength holding him in place, and the voice went on.

"Now, now," it purred. "We both know - " He paused and chuckled. "Well. We all _three_ know - how this makes you feel..." Cas's body pushed against his back, rubbed back and forth.

"Get your _fucking hands OFF ME!_ " Dean gritted out, desperate to ignore the way his body was reacting. He jabbed back hard with his elbow, but there was no response except the hand that had been slowly tugging his t-shirt up to expose his stomach grabbed the elbow and pinched the nerve. Dean grunted at the pain and collapsed forward, leaning on one fist. Lucifer pushed his torso flat on the table and bent over with him, yanking one arm behind his back and holding him immobilized with iron hands.

"Aw, c'mon, Dean! You want it, Cas wants it, I'm at least interested to see what the fuss is all about..."

Dean growled low in this throat, turned face smashed against the table top. God _damn_ the monster. Using Cas like this, using his own feelings like this, toying with them...

Lucifer's bright blue eyes peered with interest into his own, from mere inches away.

"No? Damn. I gotta say, I don't understand."

"You wouldn't, you fucking bastard," Dean said against the wood, voice choked. "You aren't Cas, you're never gonna be Cas, I want you the fuck offa me! Never gonna happen!"

Lucifer just looked at him with a tiny, lopsided smirk.

"Yeah. Like it 'didn't happen' with Sam." Dean froze, closed his eyes, heart aching. He and Sam had never, _ever_ talked about what happened to him in The Cage. Lucifer leaned even closer and whispered, "And 'didn't happen' over...and over...and over again." He paused. "Got to the point where he wanted it, asked for it. 'Course, then I had to stop." He snorted, breath soft and warm on Dean's face, "Think about it."

And suddenly the hard hands were gone, the body pressing against his was gone. Dean straightened, twisted around like a cat, panting, eyes searching for his tormentor. He was shaking from adrenaline, anger, hate, fear...and, sickeningly, arousal.

Lucifer was back to sauntering around the room. This time he was whistling. The tiny smirk was still plastered on his face.

"Sooo...any ideas for dinner?" he asked lightly, a hand sliding over one of their katanas. "I was thinking pizza, maybe?" He turned to look at Dean as if nothing had happened. "What do you think?" He raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips.

Dean wanted - oh, so badly - to spring into action, beat him to a pulp. But they needed him. And it would be useless, anyway - he'd made his point about their relative strengths quite plainly.

How the _hell_ could they work with him?


End file.
